


Sunny Days

by Stacy LA Stronach (slashgirl)



Category: Thief Takers
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-09 21:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashgirl/pseuds/Stacy%20LA%20Stronach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bob and Paul on the beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunny Days

**Author's Note:**

> Written for "trope_bingo on dreamwidth. 
> 
> Prompt: Day at the beach
> 
> Thief Takers is a cop show from the mid 90s that ran on ITV in the UK and was about London's "Flying Squad". Bob Tate was played by Brendan Coyle (yes, that one who plays Mr Bates) and Paul Valera was a gay getaway driver played by Douglas Henshall. It was only one ep (Nasty Boys) but oh, yeah. Launched a small ship…there are a handful of Bob/Paul fics around if you look for them.
> 
> As always, thanks to nebula99 for the brit check/beta read. You are a rock star!

"Bob, c'mon. You don't want me turning red as a lobster do you?" Paul Valera asked, handing the sunscreen to his lover. "Please do my back."

Bob sighed, taking the tube of lotion, squirting some directly on to Paul's back, making the younger man shiver from the coolness of it. He chuckled, spreading it over Paul's back, turning it into a caress. Bob slid his hands under Paul's swimming trunks, fingers pressing into the firm flesh of his ass.

"Bob, we're on a public beach," Paul hissed, although he didn't move out of Bob's reach.

Moving his hands, Bob chuckled. "You're the one always telling me I need to be more comfortable touching you in public," he replied, crooked grin on his face.

Paul rolled his eyes. "But not on a public beach. A lot of people don't like gays, especially when they're flaunting it in front of them and their kids." He spread a large blanket on the hot white sand. He laid down on his stomach, pillowing his head on crossed arms.

Bob dropped down beside him, shrugging. "I'm a cop, what're they gonna do?"

"You're a cop back home, not here in Ibiza. Here, you're just a bloody English tourist."

Bob slapped Paul's ass and laughed. "You are far too easy to wind up, love," Bob said before lying back on the blanket beside Paul. The other man didn't deign to reply and Bob kept smiling. He wished they'd been able to afford a longer holiday. He loved it here, where it was hot and sunny, unlike England. He let the heat of the afternoon sun warm his body up and he'd almost drifted off when Paul spoke again.

"Do you regret it?"

"What? This holiday? Fucking no."

"That's not what I meant. You know, us, this…" Paul trailed off.

Bob turned his head; Paul, sunglasses on top of his head, was watching, waiting for his answer. It wasn't the first time Paul had asked that question since getting out of prison and Bob knew it would probably get asked many more. "No, Paul, I don't regret being with you."

Sliding his sunglasses down his nose, Bob looked over the top of them, his gaze meeting Paul's. "Hey," he said softly. "I waited almost two years for you, visited you in prison and moved in with you. I think I'm well past regretting anything." He reached out and touched Paul's arm for a quick moment, knowing Paul was right, it wouldn't do to be too obvious. 

The bright smile he received for his words was worth it. "Sorry, I know I'm a fucking pain sometimes. But I just want to be sure."

"You'd be a pain whether you asked or not," Bob teased. "I'm starting to think I should ask you if YOU'RE sure about this, about us?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Good, that's settled then," Bob said, pushing his sunglasses back into place.

Paul was quiet for a moment. "But if you need, you know, physical proof, we could go back up to the hotel room," he said, leering at Bob.

"Paul, we've been here five days and have spent three of them in the hotel room—and not because the weather's bad. I am not going back home as pale as when I got here," Bob replied, shaking his head. "And I thought I was the insatiable one."

"You are!" Paul laughed. "I do love you, Bob."

Bob smiled. "I know," he said. "I love you, too," he added, closing his eyes and letting the warmth of his lover's presence wash over him.


End file.
